Checkmate
by GoddessofSnark
Summary: So instead of doing something you're sitting here wallowing in self pity? Garret thinks about the one woman who's the Ilsa to his Rick over a game of chess and far too much scotch.


A/N This actually came about from going directly from Casablanca to Crossing Jordan, like literally turned the movie off the second before Crossing Jordan began. And well, I do think Miguel looks a LOT like Bogie, (perhaps why he was cast in Where's Marlowe?) but anyway, I don't own nothing but the plot, seems Garret/Jordan's become my new favorite pairing if only because I always have and always will see Jerry O'Connel in any of his roles as nothing more than the fat little kid who would live off of Cherry Pez for the rest of his life.

I loved her, god how I loved her. I can't quite remember if I fell for her the first time I saw her or if I had to go back a second or third time in order to realize that I was completely gone. I swilled down another glass of scotch as I relaxed back listening to Dooley Wilson sing perhaps the most well known song tied to failed romance.

Refilling my glass I puffed on the cigar that lay dangling between two of my fingers. She would never know. I loved her and she would never know. She thought of me only as a friend, nothing more, nothing less. I stared at the chess board sitting before me, as I contemplated the next move. Playing against my self was fairly pathetic but at least it gave me a chance to clear my mind, somewhat.

"You know, I always thought you looked like Bogart. And look at you-playing chess against yourself, smoking, drinking and listening to As Time Goes By. Who do you think you are, Rick Blaine?" I snorted and didn't look up. She was there, and I didn't want her to be here, not when I was busy thinking about her. "So, why don't you tell me who's your Ilsa, because I know that look."

"What look? No one's "my Ilsa." She laughed that wonderful carefree laugh.

"C'mon Garret you've got that look, the look of someone who's wallowing in self pity, and if I know men, whenever they're walllowing in self pity it's over a woman. So spill." She moved a pawn forward, capturing a bishop I had left out haphazardly.I took another swing of sotch. I could tell her, I wanted to tell her, but I couldn't form the one word that would end all this toying about with each other.

I shook my head and moved a knight forward forking her, making her choose between her queen and her rook. "Maggie again?" She asked, moving her queen safely out of harm's way.

"No." I said moving a pawn forward not seeing anything else worthwhile. I hadn't even talked to Maggie in ages, the last time I had seen her was when I stopped by to take Abby out to dinner while she was home for the summer.

"Lilly?" She questioned, sliding a knight out into the center of the board. I shook my head and drained my glass. I poured myself another, and she grabbed the empty one off the table and held it out for me to fill as well.

"Here's looking at you kid." I said, mockingly, and she laughed as I quoted the movie.

"So who is it?" She asked me, and I simply sat there, staring at the board, looking for a move, puffing on my cigar and gulping down my glass. "I do hope you think your couch to be comfortable, you're not going to be driving home the way you're drinking." I shrugged. If she was going to stay here with me, I most definitly didn't mind. Spotting an opening, I moved a bishop forward.

"Check." I told her simply, and watched as her deep brown eyes examined the board.

"Emily?" She suggested, moving her king out of the way. I rolled my eyes. I liked the secretary, she was nice, and if nothing else could be described as "cute" but not my type of girl at all.

I liked someone who was vibrat and full of life and daring. I suppose that's what was the downfall between Lily and myself, she was just too nice, too kind, I wanted someone who was a real hellcat, and Maggie was, at first, but as she aged she calmed down, and we just started drifitng apart.

It's why I loved her so much. She was always out there on the move, and she refused to take no for an answer. She was always so full of life, always ready to risk her own life to find something out, she was never afraid to do something stupid if it meant something getting done.

"Do they still work here?" she asked me, and I nodded for once, backing my bishop up now that it was no longer pressuring her king.

"Yeah." I said, giving her that little bit of knowledge. "How's Woody?" I asked her, trying to change the subject as she moved a pawn forward.

"It's not Woody is it?" She teased, and I shook my head. "Cause that would explain a lot if it was..." I watched as a small little smirk appeared across her face.

"No, not Woody, he doesn't work here, does he?" I moved my king out to provide some support for a rook that was standing quite alone.

"Nigel? Bug?" She moved her own rook forward.

"No on both counts."She thought for a minute and I downed another glass of scotch, moving out my other knight.

"So what is it exactly about your Ilsa that has you so down?" She asked, studying the board, refilling her own glass. I stubbed out my cigar and stared into the glass of amber liquid that I held.

"Just that she's too much like Ilsa."

"Right, so what does that mean?"

"That she has her own Lazlo."

"Right, so she loves someone else, you love her, and rather than do anything about it you're sitting here drinking yourself into a stupor and wallowing in self pity."

"I am not wallowing." I argued with her, and she laughed.

"Well you know what, I think you are."

"It's nothing. There's nothing I can do anyway. She only thinks of me as a friend."

"What makes you so sure?" She asked fingering a rook as she kept looking for another move.

"She's said it before, that I'm a good friend of hers. I've loved her for almost a decade and she doesn't know it, she only thinks of me as a friend because I've never been able to tell her." She sat still for a minute as she processed it and realized who the only person she had left out when naming everyone in the mourge was.

"Garret-" she started, as she stammered for something to say. "I-I-" Before she could say anything else, I leaned forward and our lips met. For a long minute we sat there, Her lips parted beneath mine as we met in a languid kiss. I let one hand tangle in her rich dark hair as we just seemed to fit together. We stayed like that until she broke it off, somewhat breathless. "Garret-" she started to say again, staring down at the chessboard. "Checkmate." She finally said, moving her rook forward and tipping my king on it's side.

I watched her as she walked away, checkmate indeed. I sat there, staring as the Ilsa to my Rick walked away.


End file.
